


everything about you

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 13:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19151863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He sits there on Crowley’s couch, with his back straightened, hands neatly folded in his lap, with a smile so bright that Crowley’s positive it can light up even the darkest of rooms. He’s talking - rambling, even, Crowley stopped listening ten minutes prior and had started to study the angel in front of him, admiring every portion.Crowley loves a lot of things about Aziraphale. And by a lot, he means way too much.





	everything about you

**Author's Note:**

> i love these two so much and i wanted to write something quick for them but eventually. i will write a full blown fic i promise.

He sits there on Crowley’s couch, with his back straightened, hands neatly folded in his lap, with a smile so bright that Crowley’s positive it can light up even the darkest of rooms. He’s talking - rambling, even, Crowley stopped listening ten minutes prior and had started to study the angel in front of him, admiring every portion.

 

Crowley loves a lot of things about Aziraphale. And by a lot, he means  _ way too much. _

 

For example, he loves the glassy color of his baby-blue eyes - so inviting and pleasant. He enjoys Aziraphale’s obviously angelic smile, and the way that his face crumples up into dimples as he does so. He adores the way Aziraphale speaks, so careful and cautious, and almost always overtly positive. He loves the color of Aziraphale’s light-blond hair, and he wishes that he could run his hands through it, feeling the soft curls in between his fingers. 

 

And it’s killing him - to know that they’re going to lose each other soon. The other angels and demons weren’t too thrilled with the whole “stopping the apocalypse” thing they had going on.

 

A tightness grips at Crowley’s stomach, and his lips pull downwards into a frown. Aziraphale notices, and pauses his story. “Crowley? What’s wrong?”

 

Crowley blinks, snapping out of it. “Huh? What? Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. What makes you say that?”

 

“You’re frowning,” Aziraphale states, and Crowley touches his own mouth out of instinct. “I was talking about my love for Oscar Wilde, and then you suddenly started frowning. Do you not enjoy his writings?”

 

Crowley bites his lip, trying to think fast. “Of course I like his writings, Angel. I was merely thinking about something else, that’s all.”

 

The angel arches an eyebrow. “So you  _ weren’t _ listening to me?”

 

Crowley slouches even more on his couch and smirks. “Angel, Angel, don’t you know who I am?”

 

Aziraphale scoffs, and Crowley gestures his head. 

 

“You know, Angel, you could relax a bit. Stop sitting up so straight. Relax, you’re in my flat, nothing’s going to kill you here.”

 

“You could very well make one of the plants try to kill me,” Aziraphale quips. Crowley lets out a laugh.

 

“I could,” he says. “But I won’t. I promise. Come on, let loose.”

 

Aziraphale frowns and looks straight at Crowley, peering into the sunglasses that covered his eyes. “Crowley, how could I possibly let loose, knowing that tonight may very well be our last one? It’s...frightening.”

 

The demon studies him for a moment before taking his sunglasses off. Aziraphale’s gaze doesn’t falter, doesn’t flinch. It’s another aspect of him that Crowley loves. Most people, if they see his eyes, will look away, scared, nervous, the whole lot. But Aziraphale stares back with him warming look, and oh does Crowley melt into it. 

 

“That’s true, this could be our last night.” Crowley murmurs, sitting up a tad. “So you might as well enjoy it. Do a couple of things you’ve never done before. Tell me, really, when was the last time you ever got to relax?”

 

Aziraphale furrows his eyebrows. “I’ll have you know that just last week, I had a glass of wine and read a new set of-”

 

“Oh, shut up, Angel, that’s not relaxing, that’s just being a middle-aged mother.” Crowley rolls his eyes as he continues. “I meant, really. You’ve always been so damn stressed about everything going on. The apocalypse, upstairs,  _ Gabriel. _ ” He spits the name ‘Gabriel’ out, as if it is a sour taste. “If it’s going to be our last night, let’s make it fun. Exciting. Let’s make it a good one, and not waste it fretting over the fact that we are going to die.”

 

There’s a silence as Aziraphale absorbs Crowley’s words, and his lips purse a bit as he thinks it over. Crowley smiles involuntarily (staring at Aziraphale tends to gauge that reaction) before Aziraphale opens his mouth to speak. “I guess you’re right. I haven’t really been able to sit down and thoroughly enjoy my time. I just...don’t quite know what I would do.”

 

“Well, how about this?” Crowley stands up and saunters over to grab two wine glasses. “Let’s have a couple of drinks, put on a movie or TV show or whatever the fuck you want, and let’s enjoy our last day.” He grabs a bottle of red wine and hands a glass to Aziraphale before pouring him a drink. “In all honesty, I’m just glad I finally got you to visit my place.” He says as he pours himself a drink.

 

“Yes, well,” Aziraphale’s voice is somewhat quiet. “Your place is...rather nice. Never thought you’d be a plant person.” 

 

Crowley smirks behind his glass. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Angel.”

 

Aziraphale cocks his head as he takes a sip. “I’ve known you for six thousand years. What could I possibly not know about you?”

 

Crowley finishes his drink before placing it down. His smirk grows as he somehow slouches even more into the couch. “Well, for starters, you didn’t know I had plants.”

 

“That’s different. I just said I’d never  _ thought _ you’d had them.”

 

“Same thing.”

 

“No.”

 

“Oi, whatever.” Crowley shakes his head. “I’m just saying there’s stuff you don’t know.”

 

“And I’m saying that’s practically impossible,” Aziraphale retorts. “Crowley, I have seen you drunk, have listened to you ramble and talk about all kinds of...demonly deeds that you have done. You’re an open book, and you’re blunt and to the point. It’s not like you to hold any secrets.” He folds his hands in his lap in that proper way of his and sticks his chin up, corners of his mouth tilting upwards ever so slightly. “I know a lot about you, and frankly, I think I know too much.”

 

“Hold on there, Angel.” Crowley sits up, raising an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting that you know me better than  _ I  _ know me?”

 

“Well, no.” Aziraphale shrugs. “I’m saying that there isn’t anything I don’t know, because I know you so well. Have you ever lied to me? Really?”

 

“No,” Crowley shakes his head.

 

“My point exactly.” Aziraphale places his glass down.

 

“But,” Crowley argues. “There are still things that I keep to myself. Some thoughts that I have that I never speak out loud. I don’t tell you everything, you know.”

 

Aziraphale ponders on that for a moment before sighing. “I guess you’re right. Some thoughts do stay in the mind.”

 

“Well, considering it’s our last night, how about I share them anyway?’ Crowley suggests, though he suddenly feels that tightness from before. 

 

It’s nerve wracking, yes, but if it’s really their last night, then perhaps it might be worth it.

 

Aziraphale raises his eyebrows. “Sure, if you want to.”

 

Crowley takes a deep breath as he inches closer to the angel. He’s sitting up completely now, sitting cross-legged on the couch and facing Aziraphale. “I love everything about you, angel. I truly do. I hate that I do, but I do. I love your eyes, your hair, your face,  _ everything. _ From the way that you talk to the way that you walk, I...love you.” He feels himself burn up, blushing in a way he never has before. He averts his gaze. “And I have loved you, for a really long time. Six thousand years, to be exact.” He turns back to Aziraphale. “Bet you didn’t know that about me.”

 

Aziraphale’s expression is pure shock, and his cheeks are tinted red. “I, uh, well, I must admit that I didn’t know that.”

 

Crowley manages a smile through the fluttery feeling of his stomach. “It’s true. I never once thought demons were capable of love. But apparently, I am.” 

 

Aziraphale looks down, biting at his lip. “I was  _ not _ expecting this conversation.” He looks back up and softly smiles. “But I’m glad we’re finally having it.”

 

Crowley knits his eyebrows together in confusion. “Finally?”

 

Aziraphale reaches a hand out to rest on top of Crowley’s. It’s warm, and Crowley stares down in shock before looking back into his blue gaze. “Finally. I’ve had certain...epiphanies… about my feelings towards you. I guess all along I never wanted to believe in them, due to my loyalty to up above, but well…” Aziraphale squeezes Crowley’s hand. “Since I no longer feel that way, and since, I guess, it’s our last night, I can finally let you know.”

 

Crowley shifts closer. “Really?”

 

“I love you, Crowley.” Aziraphale states, plain as day. “And I apologize for repressing that all of these years.”

 

“You mean...all of this damn time…” Crowley shakes his head. “And now, we’re going to die. Great. Fantastic.”

 

Aziraphale’s smile fades. “I’m sorry.”

 

“No!” Crowley exclaims. “Not your fault. Don’t you apologize. I just-” he sighs, before gently cupping Aziraphale’s face. “I need to do this.”

 

He pulls Aziraphale’s face in and kisses him. Aziraphale lets out a gasp but moves his own hands to Crowley’s neck and begins to move his lips against his. Crowley’s heart is beating fast in his body as he melts into the kiss. A hand slithers upward into Aziraphale’s hair, and oh, it’s so soft and wonderful.

 

Crowley pulls away and rests his forehead against Aziraphale’s, breathing heavily. “Okay, this can’t be our last night. I’m not giving up that easily, especially after  _ that.” _

 

Aziraphale presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “What do you suppose we should do?”

 

“We have some time to figure it out,” Crowley states. “But right now, all I want to do is kiss you. Six thousand years of yearning, thank you very much.”

 

“I don’t know how much time we really do have...but I won’t complain.” He smiles that bright, beautiful smile that Crowley loves  _ so damn much. _

 

Crowley closes the gap between them, moving himself into Aziraphale’s lap to get a better angle. “I love you, angel.”

 

“You too, my dear Crowley.” Aziraphale murmurs against his lips. 

 

“We’re going to outlive this,” Crowley whispers. “That’s a promise.”

 

“For once,” Aziraphale says in between kisses. “I’m not stressing about it.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are so very appreciated! i really thrive off of comments and i love you all so much.
> 
> check me out on [twitter.](https://www.twitter.com/starkologies)  
> check me out on [tumblr.](https://mculeaf.tumblr.com/)


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